


Take A Deep Breath

by notanotherone



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-08 08:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21233048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notanotherone/pseuds/notanotherone
Summary: Daryl has a panic attack, and Merle tries to calm him down with useless knowledge from women's magazines.





	Take A Deep Breath

"I already told you, everything's fine, Daryl! Just take a deep breath!"  
As soon as those words left Merle's lips, he swore he could've kicked his own ass.  
He wasn't helping at all.  
Whenever Daryl had another panic attack, he always made the same mistake by saying those few words. He knew that Daryl reacted badly to them and it made himself look like he didn't even try or worse, didn't even care. It's what he'd say to everyone else, to other people who don't matter to him in the slightest. But not to his baby brother. He deserved better pep talk.

Desperate for coming up with some sort of distraction, Merle suddenly thought of an article he'd come across in a magazine lying on the counter at his favorite bar. Maybe he mixed up some of what was written in there in his drunken state, but nevertheless, it should do the trick.

"Here - look at my hand. See my fingers? Concentrate. There's four of th- shit, I mean, five of them."

Daryl couldn't make out every word. His breathing was far too loud, even resounding in his own ears and making it harder for him to hear. "Merle- I can't- ," he barely managed to choke out.

"Look at your hand. You got five fingers too? Man, I do believe so! That's amazing!" Merle had grabbed Daryl's hand and held it up high in front of his face so that he could hopefully focus on some other part of his body that wasn't making him go crazy again.

"Beautiful fingers you got there, Darleena. You know how they say it matters if your ring finger is longer than your index finger? Says some things about you. Like, a long ring finger means uhh... manly as hell. Long index finger means... you're Hitler."  
Daryl just stared straight ahead while still breathing like he'd just run a marathon, seemingly confused about what Merle was going on about now.

"I was joking, man. It means you're a good leader. And balanced finger lengths stand for sensitive pussies. Jesus, I wonder why that's the kinda shit I can remember. Anyway... our Darleena here has very delicate fingers with...," he laughed a little at this part, "probably same lengths, right? Now let's see, I'm really curious."

Merle took Daryl's hand in his own, aligning it in the right angle to compare the lengths of his brother's indeed delicate, but nonetheless slightly calloused fingers. He shifted them a little bit to make sure they were in a straight position, but... he didn't see a difference in the lengths.  
Now that this was the case, Merle racked his brain, trying hard to remember what he read about that. Loves making other people happy, sensitive... thinks twice as much as opposed to talking, peaceful, compassionate and warm.  
Well, if that didn't fit his baby brother, then nothing else did.  
  
Merle acted quickly and tilted Daryl's hand to the side ever so slightly, so he wouldn't even notice. "Y'see, your ring finger's the longer one! Told ya so. You're a badass, huh? Even your fingers say so!"

Merle started to laugh. For his ears though, it sounded too fake. He just hoped that his brother wouldn't notice.

"I can't help but wonder where the fuck you picked that shit up."

Daryl had put up a deadpan face while staring at his own hand entwined in Merle's. His erratic breathing had finally subsided, which earned a soft grin from Merle.

"Aww, don't say that, Darleena! I know you like that kinda stuff, I just know it."

"Then I got something for you too. They say that the gaps between your fingers were made for your soulmate to fill them."

He filled the gaps in his brother's hand perfectly, Daryl thought, while his nails dug a little deeper into the other's skin. How ironic. No matter how far apart they seemed to drift, somehow they always turned up back together like this.

"C'mon man, now that's way too cheesy."  
Merle was relieved that his brother was talking now, and he felt like he could've kept listening to his voice the whole day long. Except that he just never talked that much. But still, it looked like he managed to calm him down a bit. Finally.

"Says the one with the Hitler hand!"

"Alright, you can shut up again."

Merle ruffled through Daryl's messy and sweaty hair with his free hand. The other one would stay the way it was, still locked inside his brother's grip, a little longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Title was inspired by a prompt. Now that I think about the whole hands stuff, I totally forgot about Merle's... stump. Missed opportunity, but oh well, I wrote this one ages ago.
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


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